


Cute Boys and Crappy Decisions

by theauthorish



Series: ChenJi's Crushes and Conundrums [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Blood and Injury, Fantasy, M/M, Mentioned Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, Poor Life Choices, Sirens, chenle thinks jisung is cute, rape mentioned like Once, tagging that just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26353750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthorish/pseuds/theauthorish
Summary: Chenle doesn’t know what else to do. He’s stuck here; who knows when Sicheng-ge will find him, if he’ll arrive before this human can do anything, and Chenle can’t escape on his own…So he sings.The boy— it’s just a boy, Chenle sees now, the song bringing him clarity even as it saps that very thing away from the human— slows to a stop, eyes going hazy. He blinks slow and unfocused at Chenle, waiting for his word.“Come here,” croons Chenle, in what is maybe an even worse snap-decision than the one that had gotten him to this point in the first place.And the boy on the shore, well, what choice does he have but to obey?
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Series: ChenJi's Crushes and Conundrums [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915003
Comments: 2
Kudos: 67





	Cute Boys and Crappy Decisions

**Author's Note:**

> i made lia collab with me and I am so excited I love this series already. also lol for once??? its not 5k words or more??? who am i

There are a lot of things Chenle enjoys.

He likes to sing, for one, but he’s not sure that counts since he kinda has no choice; he’s a siren, after all, singing is how he gets fed.

He likes to annoy his brothers, for another, mimicking everything they say in as obnoxious a voice as he can make until they give up talking and try to wrestle him.

But more than anything, he likes this: playing a game he’s simply dubbed ‘dodge’ among the rocks. 

The coast Chenle and his  _ gege _ live in is famous— notorious, really— for the jagged stones that rise from its shores, wickedly sharp and unforgiving, especially when the tide is high, hiding all but their very tips. Many a ship had been lost to those rocks. 

Those had been easier days. Lots of wrecks for the sirens to scavenge. To prey on.

The humans have since put up lots of warning signs and indicators and ropes— all the fancy things to make sure no one accidentally drifted in too close. It’s a little overkill, really, but Chenle isn’t bothered too much. The stones had made feeding easy, sure, but Chenle had often grown weary, too, of having it all. He  _ likes _ the hunt. He likes the excitement. He likes the thrill.

But lately, the hunt alone isn’t enough. It’s routine. It’s  _ easy _ .

Easy bores Chenle.

So he plays, just to see how close he can cut it. Just to struggle a little.

It’s fun.

/////

Today, the sea is turbulent, a storm stirring on the horizon.

It isn’t storming  _ yet _ , not even raining— Chenle’s a daredevil, not an idiot; he’s not about to get himself killed, impaled on one of these rocks because he couldn’t fight the tide— but it  _ is _ a little rougher than usual.

For a moment, he debates just going back home to their reef; but then he remembers Sicheng- _ ge  _ will be there, no doubt waiting for him and ready to rip into him with a lecture about how reckless he was being, and if he was lucky, just some motherly hovering and smothering. If he wasn’t lucky— well, let’s just say Chenle’s hearing would be shot for a few days, not to mention he’d be banned from anymore hunting for the next moon cycle.

One of the other  _ gege  _ would probably be sentenced to babysit him too, so he’d effectively be cut off from playing ‘dodge’ too.

Chenle shudders at the thought. That would suck. So retreat isn’t an option.

He watches the waves swell and recede, gaze flitting across the waters, searching for… there. And there. And there— the rocks. He counts them out, maps them in his mind. He’s lived here all his life, he’s played here so often. He knows them, their layout. He’ll be fine.

He’ll beat his record today. He’ll brush the stones with his fingers and zip away, unscathed.

He’ll be the best hunter in his pod, and then maybe Sicheng _ -ge _ won’t baby him so much.

Or not.

Probably not.

But it’s a nice thought.

The waves crash again, like cymbals, snapping Chenle to attention. Like a drumroll, thunder rumbles in the distance.

It’s now or never.

/////

Chenle miscalculated. The storm is much closer, much faster approaching than he assumed.

Unfortunately, he realizes this halfway through the labyrinth of stones, and there’s no way to go but forward if he hopes to make it out without injury.

The current is harsher than Chenle had accounted for, propels him forward faster than he can control, and— oh  _ shit _ , that was close.

Well, that was one goal achieved. Brush the rock and not get hurt— though it had been his whole arm and not just his hand.

He’s almost there! That was the fifteenth stone, and Chenle knows that there are only eighteen. He only has… three— two— where is—

Chenle’s vision goes black— and not because he’s knocked out. He jerks out of the way, but there’s only so much room, only so much force Chenle can use, in water this shallow, with the tide at his back shoving him forward.

On the bright side, he manages not to get turned into a siren skewer.

On the other hand... 

Having part of your side and tail gored is  _ painful _ , and when you’re literally submerged in saltwater, it only gets worse.

So Chenle’s pretty sure he’s justified when he screams.

/////

He manages as far as pulling himself from the water to lie on the shore, out of reach of the ocean and its salt and its mocking laughter at his failure.

And okay, maybe the last part was just him being huffy, but he needs something, anything else to focus on than the gory wound spanning all the way from under his left ribs to half of the way down the right of his tail.

One of the  _ gege  _ must have heard him. He’s sure of it.

Chenle knows he can be insufferably loud, that even for a siren, his pair of lungs is impressive.

Surely, someone had heard him. Surely Sicheng- _ ge  _ was already on his way, and he’d wrap Chenle up and take care of him and carry him home, and then Chenle would be coddled for the next decade, but it would be okay, because he’d be safe, and he’d be home, and he wouldn’t be dead on these stupid rocks because of a dare he’d set himself.

Chenle hears footsteps, a voice calling for him, worried—

But it isn’t Sicheng- _ ge.  _ It isn’t  _ any _ of the  _ gege _ .

It’s a human. 

Chenle curses, scrambling back a couple paces, before the movement tugs at his gash, makes him wince. This isn’t good. He’s in no state to defend himself, much less hunt this guy, which is what he  _ should _ be doing.

Chenle’s heard all the horror stories. He knows what happens to a siren caught unawares and vulnerable. 

Turned into sideshow attractions in too-small aquariums. Slaughtered out of spite (once, he heard they were even served up as delicacies after, but Chenle thought that was fake). Raped, then left for dead.

Made to be brides or grooms, slaves for all their lives to a mortal and his descendants, the sea in their veins forgotten.

Chenle doesn’t know what else to do. He’s stuck here; who knows when Sicheng- _ ge  _ will find him, if he’ll arrive before this human can do anything, and Chenle can’t escape on his own…

So he sings.

The boy— it’s just a boy, Chenle sees now, the song bringing him clarity even as it saps that very thing away from the human— slows to a stop, eyes going hazy. He blinks slow and unfocused at Chenle, waiting for his word.

_ “Come here,” _ croons Chenle, in what is maybe an even worse snap-decision than the one that had gotten him to this point in the first place.

And the boy on the shore, well, what choice does he have but to obey?

He comes closer, stops only one step, maybe two, away from Chenle. He kneels down so they’re at eye-level, almost, and even through the daze Chenle’s put him in, there’s an earnestness shining in them.

He really  _ is  _ just a boy, Chenle thinks, looking at him properly. The baby fat hasn’t entirely melted from his cheeks, and his arms and legs seem too long for him by just the slightest bit, like he hasn’t yet grown into them all the way, but he’s getting there. He moves with a tinge of awkwardness, like he isn’t entirely sure he’s comfortable in his own skin.

_ “Pick me up,” _ Chenle orders, soft.

And though the boy struggles, he does. Of course he does. It’s a difficult feat to break a siren’s trance.

_ “Take me home. Take care of me.” _

The boy pauses, sets Chenle down again, and Chenle panics. Is his trance not working? Why— and then the boy tugs off his coat, a long, long thing, thick and heavy, and ties it around Chenle’s wound to staunch the bleeding, mumbling something to himself as he does.

Oh. That was pretty smart. And kind.

Chenle doesn’t understand what he’s saying, the words too soft, too garbled by the almost-sleep Chenle’s spell has left the boy in for any of them to be comprehensible. But he supposes it’s not that important. He’s doing what Chenle instructed, and he’s not free of the trance yet, so it’s fine.

The boy does as he was told, then, scooping Chenle up again and carrying him further and further away from the water. 

Chenle has a brief moment of doubt. Is this too crazy a risk?

No, he tells himself immediately. 

It’s this, or bleed out. He can’t help himself like this; Chenle had never bothered to learn healing magic, assured that he’d never get himself injured badly enough to need it without one of the  _ gege _ there to do it for him. That’s biting him in the ass right about now, but there’s nothing to be done about it.

The boy looks scrawny anyway. Chenle can probably overpower him if he has to. And he still has his voice. As long as the boy doesn’t wise up and gag him, later, Chenle can always sing him into obedience. Just like now.

He lets that thought lull him into a sense of security, and without meaning to, he drifts off.

/////

When Chenle wakes up, he just lays there, scrunching his eyes up and trying to go back to sleep, and gosh, why are his  _ gege  _ being so noisy—

He curls up tighter, twisting onto his side like he can physically shield himself from the noise, and that’s where he fucks up.

The tear across his torso protests the movement, and Chenle’s eyes shoot open, hissing between his teeth at the pain.

He remembers. Dodge. The wound.

The boy.

That must be who’s talking, Chenle realizes. Not his  _ gege _ . It’s both a relief and not at all.

He won’t be getting yelled at for being stupid, at least, but he definitely would be much better taken care of with his  _ gege _ , and less likely to, like… get woefully abused or something.

Maybe he should be paying attention to what human boy is saying, actually.

“...et it, you don’t get it! I have a  _ siren in my bathtub.  _ And he’s  _ hurt! _

“… Wh— of course I bandaged him up! I’m not cruel enough to leave it— okay,  _ fine,  _ Jeno-hyung was here and he stitched him up a bit and  _ then  _ bandaged him but the point is—

“What do you mean ‘what’s the problem!?!?’ I have a siren boy who might _eat me_ when he wakes up sitting in my motherfu— no, don’t ‘language’ me, I’ll say fuck if I want to, this is stressful!”

_ “Yah! Jisung Park! _ ” Whoever is on the other end of the line yells loud enough that Chenle can pick it up clearly, tinny and distorted though it is from a phone not even switched to loudspeaker mode. 

Jisung. Was that the kid’s name? Where was he anyway? He had to be some distance away, for Chenle, even with his heightened sense of hearing, to have to concentrate to really hear, and to miss the other half of the conversation besides, especially when whoever it is goes on some sort of rant, the sounds of his irritation coming through even if the exact words and syllables escape Chenle. Even through a phone, Chenle should have been able to pick it up, if Jisung were still in the room or just outside the door. 

“Yeah. Okay. Sorry, hyung,” says Jisung, quietly.

Chenle could escape right now. He’s bandaged, and when Chenle checks it, it seems neatly done. He’s not about to unwrap it to check, but the stitches feel okay, too.

But he’s admittedly not sure whether that’ll hold true if he shifts his tail into legs, which is what he’ll need to do to get out of here.

He thinks they will, but still.

And anyway, the very least this boy deserves is thanks, right? He did save Chenle, even if he was tranced into it. And he wasn’t tranced for all of it, that much is clear. Chenle’s not a fool, he knows that once he’d conked out, his power would have worn off. Maybe not instantaneously, but within a few minutes. Certainly soon enough that Jisung could have ditched him, ignored his command entirely and left him for dead. 

But he didn’t.

Jisung ends the call, and a few minutes later, Chenle can hear his footsteps approaching. Ah. Had he been below? Those sound like stairs that he’s climbing. And now he’s coming down the hall…

The door opens.

The boy blinks at him, eyes blown wide in shock. He’d probably thought Chenle would still be sleeping.

Chenle blinks back at him.

“Is Jisung your name?” Chenle asks, when the boy makes no move to come closer, or to leave, or to do anything, really.

“Ohmygod!” Jisung yelps, jumping backward like that will somehow do anything. It won’t. Chenle can’t even reach him from here, so his only attack would be singing.

And Jisung isn’t even covering his ears. Stupid.

“How— how did—”

“You were on the phone,” says Chenle, waving a hand vaguely.

“You heard that?” Jisung demands, gaping. He raises a hand to his mouth, and he seems genuinely amazed, and only a little bit afraid. “Cool— that’s. Wow, how did— I was all the way downstairs!”

“I’m a siren.” Chenle shrugs. “Which you know, obviously. We have really good hearing. And just so you know, I’m not gonna eat you. You saved me, so that would just be rude. Is Jisung your name or not?”

Jisung startles again, jolting slightly at the question. “A-ah. Yes. Yeah. Jisung. What’s yours?”

Chenle squints at him, then gives him a very careful once over. He’s very tall and lanky indeed; thin, too. He’s hunched over, slightly, slouching like he’s trying to be smaller than he is. His face is cute, small and pointed at the chin, his cheeks full and soft-looking. His eyes are sharp and bright, a rich shade of brown that matches his hair (except for the streaks of highlights).

He looks nice, even a little shy, even though the ripped jeans and the leather jacket scream wannabe cool kid. 

He’s super cute.

Yeah, okay. Chenle doesn’t mind telling him. 

“It’s Chenle.”

“Chen—”

“ _ Chen-le _ ,” he repeats, emphasizing the syllables.

“Chenle. That’s your name?”

Chenle nods.

“Oh. It’s a nice name.”

Chenle snorts.

“W-What?”

“Nothing,” says Chenle. This kid is so awkward. He’s adorable, especially with a flush on his cheeks. Chenle really hopes he isn’t some psycho human. Chenle wants to keep him. “You’re cute.”

Jisung colors more, if that’s even possible. He takes another step away. “I— are you doing the siren thing where you like—“

“If I was going to do that, I’d just sing,” Chenle points out, smirking when Jisung claps his hands over his ears, very, very belatedly. “Get your hands off of your ears,” he says, rolling his eyes. “If I wanted to I’d have done it already, so it’s too late, and I wouldn’t have warned you either.”

Jisung hesitates, but then he does as he’s told, lowering his arms to his sides. “O...kay.” He puffs air through his cheeks, dropping his gaze to the floor, kicking at the tiles of the bathroom. “Ohmygod,” he mumbles. “I have a siren in my bathtub.”

“You’re still not over that?”

“No! No. Why— you don’t just get over that!”

“Why not? I already promised not to eat you.”

“That’s  _ so _ not the—“

Chenle raises an eyebrow.

“Okay,” admits Jisung, “That’s partly the point. But that’s not all of it.”

That’s interesting. Carefully, mindful of his injury, Chenle shifts himself up to sit straighter and look Jisung in the eye. “What’s the rest of it then?”

Jisung clears his throat and turns the  _ prettiest _ shade of pink Chenle’s ever seen, and Chenle really, really,  _ really  _ hopes that Jisung is as nice and sweet and innocent as he seems because Chenle will be heartbroken if he turns out to be one of those evil assholes Ten- _ ge  _ likes to tease him about.

If he is, Chenle will start a riot.

And he keeps his promises, so he won’t eat Jisung, but he’ll like... Have to drown him, probably.

“Oh?” Chenle grins, all teeth, and pillows his head with his arms, leaning on the edge of the tub to bat his eyes at Jisung. “You know, it’s okay if you—“

“Whatever you’re gonna say, no. And— and I think Jaemin-hyung is calling my phone again. I hear it ringing. Bye!”

And—

He’s gone.

“Your phone isn’t ringing!” Chenle yells. Because it isn’t.

Hmph.

**Author's Note:**

> find me @theauthorish on twitter!!!


End file.
